Bad Company
by Call Me Ookami-Chan
Summary: A woman in possession of the most deadly knowledge known to any demon. Her name is Tuesday Colt and she was born and bred a soldier. There is no defying the purpose given to her since birth, not even for Dean Winchester.
1. Trouble with a Capital S and D (0x01)

**A/N: **I've finally decided to post this story. This is a Dean/OFC story, yes, but the romance isn't immediate. This is the first part to a series that will follow season by season. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anyone in the Supernatural series. I own only my own original characters.

* * *

**Bad Company  
**_Trouble with a Capital S and D_**  
**

"Look, Dean, I think we could be doing something a lot more productive than hunting down some person named," the brunette made a face down at the journal on the table that rested between the two of them, "Tuesday." Samuel Winchester shook his head and shoved the journal back toward his brother, glancing briefly at the two names written in their father's familiar scrawl with a dark line scratched underneath them. "This is stupid. We shouldn't be down here in freaking Texas."

The elder brother leaned back in his seat, taking a bite out of the cheeseburger in hand before poking at the two names. "Take a look at her last name again, Sammy." Dean retorted with pieces of meat spewing out of his mouth and across the table. "Both of them—James and TuesdayColt," he reiterated and ignored the look of disgust etched onto his brother's face. "A big lead could be right here, Sam, and we have the address."

"How many people have that last name? How can you be sure these people are even connected to the Colt?" Sam asked in exasperation and glared at the other man.

"Would our dad put these people down in their journal if they weren't worth going after, huh?" Dean sneered back before scoffing and glancing out the window which the two of them were seated beside. After a moment, the glare vanished and a smirk stretched across his face. "Dude, look." he whispered. "There is a smoking hot babe checking out my baby."

Following his gaze, Sam let out a loud groan and sunk down in his seat. "No. Dean—" he scowled as his brother stood up from his seat. "No. We're not here so that you can pick up on chicks—Dean." He hissed at the elder Winchester while standing up from his own seat, the legs scraping against the linoleum. "Dean!"

* * *

Dean Winchester approached the woman from behind, watching as she doubled over and peeked into the Impala, poking her rear out toward him as she did. The woman leaned up, tucking strands of blonde behind her ear as she pressed her hand against the sleek black and traced her fingers along the frame. The man watched as she walked with growing interest, his emerald gaze running over her long tanned legs, the formfitting plaid shirt, the jean shorts that stopped at her upper thigh and his smirk widened. When she noticed him there, she gasped in surprise and stared back and forth between him and the car with ice blue orbs.

"I—" she sent him a meek look. "I'm guessing this is your Impala I've been rubbing all up on, right?" The woman inquired with a smooth southern accent and stepped back from the car. "I'll get out of your way. It's just that you never see something as beautiful as this," she touched the car again, "that much anymore." She explained.

"You're certainly right about that." Dean replied under his breath and let his gaze roam over her once again. "Do you know a little something about cars, sweetheart?"

The stranger sent him her own smirk and strolled around to the other side of the Impala, leaning over on the trunk so that he had a complete view of the black lace hidden underneath her shirt. With her giving him a, what seemed to be, come hither look, he walked around to the other side of the trunk and leaned over it so that the two of them were inches from one another.

"I know more than you would think. What can I say? I'm smart and gorgeous." Batting her lashes, she leaned in closer to him and her smile widened. "So, what are you doing all the way down here, handsome? Those Kansas plates aren't for nothing, I'm sure."

"Searching for some…family," he lied smoothly. "Tell me, beautiful, do you live around here? You might've heard of them before. Tuesday and James Colt?" he inquired and noticed how her expression faltered for a moment before the smile reappeared. "I'm guessing that you do know about them? C'mon, you can tell me."

The woman tucked more hair behind her ear and looked anxious. "Well, people around here don't go talking about them Colts much, you know?" She rubbed the back of her neck. "I heard all of them are bat-shit crazy. I don't mean to insult you—being related to them and all." He shook his head and she gave a shrug. "But, shit, people talk and it probably ain't all that true since you're related to them."

"Aren't you just sweet as sugar?" He joked with a poor southern accent. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his younger brother approaching him and leaned back to which the woman gave a frown. "Hey there, Sammy." he bit out. "I was just talking to my friend here who was telling me about our relatives—Tuesday and James."

The woman cocked her head to the side and leaned over the car to stretch out her hand which Sam accepted with reluctance and shook. She perked up and sent then both another of her charming smiles. "If y'all want, I'd be more than happy to take you to the Colt place." She pointed toward a faded blue pickup truck on the other side of the parking lot. "Just follow me on up there, alright boys?" Patting the Impala one more time, she turned around and started walking over to her own vehicle.

"Oh, wow, uh, thanks," Sam managed awkwardly.

Glancing over her shoulder, she winked at the two men. "No need to thank me so long as handsome there takes me out for a drink or two tonight."

"Dude, yes," Dean whispered toward Sam once the woman was out of hearing range.

"Just take it to her place instead of the hotel." Sam answered in a frustrated tone.

* * *

The blue truck slowed down as it turned onto a gravel road that led to an abandoned ranch. There were some older cars that had been put up on cement blocks, the windows had been boarded up, a barn was in the distance that looked as broken down as the home, and it appeared that no one had lived in the home for decades, let alone having people inside at the current time. Their escort hopped down out of her truck, walking around to stand in front of their own car and waited for them to get out with a smile on her face.

"Either these people are off their rockers, don't want to be found, or we've been brought to the wrong place." Dean mumbled under his breath as the two of them opened their individual door. "You sure this is the right place, sweet thing?" He inquired and strolled up to her side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"This is the place Ma and Pa warned me to stay away from, yeah." She answered and wrapped an arm around his waist flirtatiously. "You want to let me knock? Someone might be more inclined to answer to me since, you know, I'm from around here. Mom and Pop used to be real close to these people before they got loony." She explained without going in depth and moved up the porch, in front of the door to knock twice.

When there was no immediate answer, she knocked again but Dean stepped in to knock with more force. As their guide took a step back, the two men stepped forward and Sam reached down to the doorknob, twisting cautiously before realizing the door was open. The Winchester siblings now on edge, Sam opened the door while Dean turned his head to glance back at the blonde who had a concerned expression etched onto her face.

"We can take it from here, gorgeous. Meet you at the bar down the road from the gas station? Nine?" she gave a hesitant nod and he smiled. "See you then and we can get to know each other a lot more." He promised and she sent him a small smile before he turned back around and followed Sam into the home, closing the door behind him as he went.

Sam walked deeper into the home with his handgun raised while Dean grabbed his own weapon from his waistband and took an immediate left into a large room. There was a sleeping bag in the middle of the floor, surrounded by emptied fast food wrappers and junk food from the local gas station, and a lantern. Beside the camping area was a thick journal in the middle of a shotgun, silver blade, and a handgun that had been pulled apart to be cleaned. As he bent down to search the journal, there was a loud thump from the other room.

"Sammy?" Dean called out, voice echoing through the home. "Sam!" There was no response back and the older brother stood up, hand clenching tighter around his gun. There was another sound down the hall to which Dean began walking toward faster than before. He entered the kitchen where his brother was sprawled out, unconscious. "Sam! Damn it!" He snarled.

* * *

There was a sound behind him and he turned around, someone running a shovel into the side of his face, sending him sprawling down on the ground beside Sam into unconsciousness.

"Rise and shine there, sunshine," a sharp voice called out to Dean through the darkness, making him groan as a pain bloomed in the side of his head and spread throughout the rest of his skull. When he blinked against the pain, he glanced around the room before looking at the blonde woman who guided them to the home. "Howdy there," she drawled out sarcastically. "Been waiting for you with your, uh, whatever he is." She explained while motioning toward Sam who was awake and to the side of him

"What the hell is going on?" Dean snarled and leaned forward in his own chair, struggling against the rope that had been wound around his torso. "You bitch. Who are you? Really?" he asked angrily and then stared down at the devils trap around both him and Sam.

The blonde leaned down on her makeshift seat that consisted of a bucket. "You tell me," she replied. "You two are the ones who came here looking for me." She tipped an imaginary hat to the two with a wry grin. "Tuesday Colt here and at your service…"

"Wait," Sam called out. "You're Tuesday Colt?" The two brothers exchanged glances and he looked back at her. "Our dad wrote about you in his journal. We came here to look for you and another person named James." He explained. "We swear we aren't here to hurt you. We just want to talk."

Tuesday stood up with a bottle in hand, cocking her head to the side. "I might be inclined to believe you, but hell, you two could be some demons." Unscrewing the lid to the plastic bottle, she swished around the liquid for a moment before tossing it into Dean's face, following suit with Sam. When there were no adverse side effects, she plopped back down onto her makeshift seat, stretching her legs out. "Both human," she clapped her hands. "You can go ahead and start talking now. Who was your daddy?"

"That's it?" Dean inquired and snorted. "What kind of a backwoods hunter are you? We could be something other than a demon—not that we are—and you wouldn't even know, you freaking amateur."

When her gaze narrowed at him, Sam cleared his throat. "Dean, can you stop pissing off the person who has us tied up in her living room please?"

"Checked you with silver already, dick." She waved her free hand toward his arm where a cut had been drawn along his the top of his hand. "It woke up the partner here, so I decided to wait to ask y'all some questions before I did the demon check. You passed it. So, I'm asking again, who was your daddy?"

"John Winchester," Dean ground out while struggling against the rope. "Now will you let us go?"

Their captor stared at them and cocked her head to the side, processing what he had said to her before she shook her head and let out a loud laugh once. "You're kidding me, right? You're fucking kidding." She stood up and threw the blade in hand down into the floor. "What? Daddy got you running errands for him now? You tell him that I'm not giving him jack—"

"What in the blue hell is going on here?"

The three people in the room stared at the man who hung in the doorway who glowered at the blonde woman. In response to the heated look, the aforementioned woman glanced at the ground, shoulders slumping as she took a step back toward her two captives. The older man sighed in exasperation and stomped past her—making her cringe in the process—and grabbed the blade out of the floor, cutting at the ropes subduing the two men. The oldest hunter in the room turned back around, sending a look toward Tuesday that could put her six feet under if a glare could kill.

"Bobby," she attempted to soothe over and sent him a crooked grin. "No need to get all bent out of shape—especially not in your condition." Leaning forward, she patted his upper arm. "The condition of being old and all, I mean." She joked.

"Girl, you better shut up now." Bobby Singer snarled and stepped in front of her which made the woman duck her head down. "You've been ignoring phones calls, hiding out in this place, and from all the bandages shoved in the trash can outside, I can tell you've been on a bunch of suicide missions. You better have a good excuse for all this, you idjit."

"I…well, you see—the two of them—" the blonde glanced over her shoulder and stared at the two men before looking back at the man in front of her. "I ain't got nothing good at this point, Bobby—sir." She amended and rubbed the back of her neck.

Bobby murmured something under his breath before he pointed toward the bucket that she had previously been seated on. Tuesday shuffled toward the seat and dropped down, her head ducked as he turned his back on Dean and Sam to stare down at her. From the other side of the room, Sam had to cough under his breath to hide the amusement—which Dean outright showed from beside him—at the sight of an old drunk about to parent some woman who was as old as both himself and his brother.

"Charlie was a hunter and he died. That's the natural order in this life." She cringed, but remained silent as he continued. "You need to buck up and accept that. You need to stop all this running around with a sign that says 'I'm trying to commit suicide so just kill me now' on your back." He then twisted to point at the other two men. "And I don't care that your daddy and John had some dumb fight years ago. Along with all this other crap, you need to stop holding a grudge that isn't your own."

Tuesday opened her mouth but closed it instead, opting not to talk back. Bobby sent her one last glare before turning around and sending the same intense look toward Dean and Sam who both froze. "I'm waiting for the two of you to start explaining."

The two exchanged glances before Sam reached into his jacket and pulled out the journal hidden within. The younger Winchester brother flipped open to the page where Tuesday Colt was scribbled onto the page and flashed it to Bobby. He looked over the paper for a moment before glancing back at her then toward them once again. The older man shoved the journal back at them with an irritated glare.

"You two came a long way for nothing. You won't find anything with her."

Dean looked at him and silence passed between the four people in the room for a few moments before he stepped forward, still staring at Bobby. "You're lying, aren't you? Now, are you going to tell us the truth or not?"

"Since you trust them so much," she drawled sarcastically as she made a face, "then I guess there's no problem with telling them about it. I mean, it isn't like the two of them would, y'know, take advantage, right? Since you trust them so much," she elaborated the same point a second time.

"Don't get smart with me, Colt."

"Well, these are the bouncing baby boys of John Winchester, Bobby." Tuesday cried out suddenly and kicked the bucket to the side. "Do I need to remind you what that bastard did all those times? All those damned—" she slammed her hand against the wall. "I'm not stupid. The two are looking for the demon that killed mommy, aren't they? So what do you expect is going to happen when I tell them, huh?"

"Uh, sorry, sister, but the kids are in the room so I would really appreciate it if the both of you didn't talk about us like we weren't here." Dean snarled toward her and her jaw clenched as she turned her angry gaze on him. "What the hell are the two of you talking about? And I know we've asked this before, but who the hell are you, lady?"

Sam let out a breath of disbelief. "You're really connected to him—to Samuel Colt." He declared. "That's the only reason our dad would come looking for you. He wanted something from you—the Colt."

"Samuel Colt was my great-something granddaddy, yeah." Tuesday nodded. "And, obviously, he wanted the Colt, but none of us had it. No one in our family has had it since the time Samuel Colt was still kicking. Your daddy never took no for an answer, though. But when no one gave it up, he tried paying me to make another."

Dean held up his arms and began to wave them around, cutting her off from speaking another word. "Hold on one damn minute." He walked forward and gripped her shoulders until she couldn't budge. "You can make another Colt. As in create another gun that can kill any monster out there?"

"Yes. Yes, I can. And," then her clenched fist moved up and smashed into his cheek, sending him sprawling to the floor as she towered over him, "you ever touch me like that again and I'll be putting your boys up in my dashboard like a damn trophy, Winchester."


	2. The Plea Bargain (0x02)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters of Supernatural. All credit goes to the Eric Kirpke. However, I do own Tuesday Colt and all other original characters created in this story.

* * *

**Bad Company**

_The Plea Bargain  
_

Shrugging the leather jacket from his broad shoulders, the brunette stood in front of the ice machine, watching with dull interest as ice fell into doubled plastic bags from the local gas station. Turning his head to look down toward the motel room where the older hunter remained outside the door, having a heated conversation on the cell phone in hand, he frowned but let his attention drop back down to the makeshift ice pack. When there was enough ice, he gave an exasperated sigh at the prospect of having to face a complaining brother who not only had to nurse a swollen cheek but a wounded ego. Shuffling toward the motel room, he watched as the older man barked something toward the person on the other end before snapping the cell phone shut and shoving it back into his pocket. The two men entered the motel room, the older storming inside while the younger gave an amused chuckle behind the other.

"Was that your girlfriend on the phone?" The elder Winchester brother sneered through a cheeseburger and dodged the smack aimed toward the back of his head from a disgruntled Bobby Singer. "What? She might as well be with the way you were defending her," he scoffed under his breath.

"Mad because dad brought home a new baby?" Bobby remarked sarcastically. "Suck it up and stop pouting, you baby. I just got done ripping her a new one and now I'm moving on to the next on my list." He dropped down in the seat at the small table situated in front of the window, on the other side of where Dean was seated.

Sam chuckled, making sure that neither of the men with him heard, and tossed the ice toward his brother who caught it and placed it against a reddened cheek. He dropped back onto the mattress behind him, loathing but waiting for the eventual lecture Bobby was preparing to dish out to them.

"Why are we in the wrong here, Bobby?" Dean snapped. "We came here on a lead to help us find that son of a bitch who killed our dad and we'regetting an earful? I mean, c'mon, this chick tied us up in her living room—"

"I'm sorry if you were offended, princess." He opened a pouch on his vest, pulling out his flask and taking a quick swig. "But you got someone coming into town, pretending to be some relatives of yours, and you're a hunter? Put yourself in her position. Would you want to welcome them with open arms or jump them before they get to you?"

Unlike his hot-headed brother, Sam decided to keep quiet and take the lecture without speaking a word and remained like that even as his older brother continued to dig a hole for himself. Dean stood up from the table, wiping a hand across his face in frustration and taking a drink from the beer bottle by his emptied fast food wrappers.

"Bobby, maybe you're not seeing clear because of whatever way you're connected to that chick, but she has the power to make more weapons that can kill any damn monster out there. And she's what? Standing around with a thumb up her ass?" He scoffed. "Maybe you and she aren't seeing the bigger picture here, but we are. We could use her to make a whole damn armory."

"Dean," Sam took a deep breath. "Think about what you're saying. That's," he released the breath, "a lot of power for one person to have."

"So, what?" the older brother glanced toward Bobby again. "Your girl Tuesday is scared of what's going to come after her? Well, what if we protected her?" Bobby began to shake his head and Dean groaned in exasperation. "Oh, c'mon, what's wrong with that?"

"Tuesday don't need protection, son. That idiot is suicidal enough she'd help you out, no problem." He took another swig and huffed under his breath. "The problem is there are people out there that she's got to protect and she's not going to put a target on them. So, like I've told you before, you should turn around. You got nothing here because she's not going to make you another Colt."

Dean scowled and Bobby stood up, face smoothed over and expressionless. "Maybe you should cut her some slack. Would you put a target on Sam's back for every fang and claw to make another Colt?" He continued without waiting for a response. "Differences aside, both Jonathon Colt and John Winchester raised their children the exact same way—like soldiers and on the foundation that family is everything. Tuesday won't do a damn thing that could put what she's got left in danger."

Sam could feel the impending heated argument and stood up from the bed, grabbing at the set of keys on the nightstand and walked out the door before the other two men could notice him. On the other side of the door, he could hear the voices that were beginning to rise and he shook his head before heading over to the Impala. Sliding behind the wheel of the car, he turned on the engine and glanced toward the room one more time before glancing over his shoulder as he backed out of the space.

* * *

The blonde watched the man across the table, impatience behind the blue of her stare, one hand pressed to her cheek as she used the other to tug at the lettuce of her untouched cheeseburger. Gaze connecting with the emerald of the brunette across from her, she sent him a look of aggravation to which he sent her a nervous look before glancing down at his own untouched plate. Heaving a frustrated sigh, she began to shuffle out from behind the booth, but he reached out to touch her arm, stopping her movement for the moment.

"Thank you for even agreeing to come eat with me." Sam sputtered before clearing his throat and pulling his hand back onto his side of the table. "I wanted to apologize for the, uh, bad impression that we must've given you. I know we got off to a bad start, but all we wanted to do was talk with you. We saw where our dad had written your name down and we kind of jumped the gun too soon."

"Bad habit with you Winchester boys," she drawled out coolly and sent him a sharp look. "Look, I know you're buttering me up. Pretty sure that dick you call a brother wouldn't be saying sorry for what y'all did. Hell, I don't think I'd apologize because, let's be honest here, sugar, I did knock you two out and hogtie you up in the living room." He cringed and she sent a smug smirk toward him. "Since we got that embarrassment out of the way, what else you go to throw my way because I'm real busy with a hunt and all."

Sam leaned back against the seat and glanced out the window, sending the reflection in the glass a wry smile. "I hope they know how lucky they are," she sent him a suspicious look. "The people you want to keep safe." She sunk down in her seat, seething, and the bitterness in his smile turned to meekness. "Bobby told us about you…some," he amended. "It was enough to where he thought he could get us off your back."

Tuesday tore a piece of lettuce in half, gaze set on nothing in particular but something troubled lurking behind it. "Do appreciate the old man looking out for me as much as he does," she mumbled and let out a breath, shoulders slumping. "Honestly, I do a shit job at keeping the people close safe. So, I don't have much to protect…not anymore." She commented with a sour tone.

"Was Charlie someone close?" When her grip tightened around the knife next to her plate, he looked at her sadly. "I'm so sorry, Tuesday. I didn't mean to upset you." He touched the butter knife before prying it from her tight grip. "You know, I lost someone close, too."

The female hunter scoffed, moving her hands into her lap and Sam could almost see her build an emotional wall between the two of them. "I'd appreciate if you'd spare me that sob story about momma. I've heard that one before from your dad more than I could count."

"Both my dad and my brother loved my mom, but I was a baby when she died. I never got to spend much time with her—I never really knew her. But that's between me and you." He took an absentminded sip from the cup in front of him. "No. I was talking about my…well, she was my girlfriend. Her name was Jessica and I really loved her. I was going to spend the rest of my life with her. But the demon that murdered my mom went after her, too."

"I'm sorry about that." Tuesday apologized after blinking. "That must be something hard to deal with."

"It was over a year ago." He replied thoughtfully. "Until now, with everything that's gone on and since we lost our dad, I really haven't had that much time to think about her."

Surprise flickered behind her stare before she looked back down at the table. "I hadn't heard about John. I can't imagine being with the man more than an hour let alone my whole damned childhood, but I am sorry to hear that." She paused. "Was it the same one that got your mom and girl?" He nodded and she shook her head, mumbling something underneath her breath. "Like I said before, I'm sorry you and your brother have had to go through as much as you have."

"It sounds like there's a 'but' coming." Sam pointed out.

"There is," she retorted. "Look, sugar, I've had a good share of loss myself, so I can get why you would want revenge, but you should understand that it won't help. I know that much." She gave a shrug. "So, I know you came here to get something, but you won't get a thing from me."

Sam sighed in defeat and she stared at him hard before her expression softened. "You are sure as hell better than that asshole you call a brother." She mumbled and touched the hand he had clenched on the table, making him look up at her. "I'm real sorry, Sam, and I do mean that."

There was no response from the man across from her and she ran a hand through her hair before she moved out from behind the booth and stood to her feet. Grabbing her wallet out of her back pocket, she dropped some money onto the booth before looking down at the brunette again. When he made no move to look up at her, she shrugged on her jacket and moved toward the door. Before she left, she looked over her shoulder at Sam and had to shove down the shame when she saw the defeated slump of his broad shoulders.

* * *

The female hunter dropped down onto her sleeping bag and stretched out before she curled back up. Jacket bunched up underneath her head, she looked out the window across from her and let her mind wander. When it wandered too much toward Sam Winchester, she groaned and buried her face into the large leather jacket. The last thing she needed was to be up the entire night, thinking about two people she had no obligation to help, when she would have to get up for a demon hunt bright and early.

About an hour later, when she was stuck between that state of awake and asleep, she heard the sound of a plastic bottle tumbling over onto the floor. But she had been so out of it that she turned over to face the wall and groaned out loud at the disturbance, thinking that the one in the house with her was Bobby. Then she heard one more bump and a quiet hiss that was far from the deep, gruffness that belonged to the mechanic-slash-hunter. That was when she shot up, gun tugged out from under her makeshift pillow and aimed at the man in the room with her. She reached to turn on the lantern and rubbed at her eyes before taking a good look at the intruder.

"Oh, come on." Tuesday snarled under her breath and her gaze narrowed at what he had in hand—her personal hunter's journal. "Were you that stupid? I'm a hunter, so I'm a damn light sleeper, you dumbass." She stood up and approached him, handgun never leaving sight of him, and then tugged the personal item away from his grasp. "By the way, you'd think I'd up and leave the recipe in here? Yeah, nice try, sweetheart,"

"Hey, can't blame a man for trying." Dean responded and shrugged. "So, what can I do to get you to make me a brand spanking new Colt?"

She lowered the gun and sent him a sharp look. "It sure as shit ain't breaking in my house and trying to steal the damn secret," she huffed and tucked the gun into her waistband. "Look, Dean," she sneered and he frowned, "there's nothing you can offer me, okay? Daddy and Sam gave me the sob story, your old man offered me money, but I'm not taking anything."

"So," he started and took a step closer to her despite how her hand moved back to her weapon, "what about me giving you the best night you've ever had?" He reached down to put a hand on her hip, but he paused upon remembering the last time he touched her without permission. "From what I remember, you seemed into me earlier."

"Dean Winchester—not only a hunter but a hooker, too," Tuesday snorted and gave him a shove to get him away from her. "You're one talented son of a bitch. You should put that on a resume." He groaned, but she ignored him and leaned down to grab a water bottle. "I had some sympathy for Sam, but not for you."

"What if I promised to protect whoever you need to?"

She rolled her eyes. "And what's going to happen when I'm done, huh? Demons find out I made another Colt and they come after my people? You're going to be chasing after the demon and I'm left high and dry to keep back a fuck-ton of black-eyed bitches. I know you're not too bright, but I'm sure you see the problem here."

"Hey, we kill the demon we're after and you won't have a problem." When she sent him a look, he sighed. "Bobby, he, uh, said that we were raised the same." She sent him a skeptical glance. "Watch out for Sammy—that's what my dad put in my head and that's what I've done my whole life. It's what I'm doing now. It's why I need you to make me something—anything—that can get rid of this damn demon once and for all."

Tuesday could understand where he was coming from because, even at that moment, she could hear a voice in her head, screaming to protect. Had the cell phone in his pocket not begun to ring, it was that long-dead person in her head that would have told Dean no. As he answered the phone, she felt angry because she followed every damn order even when that man had been dead for years. But she had people to protect and even without that order, she would do whatever it took to keep them safe.

"Sam? Sammy, what's up?" Dean ran a hand over his face, looking frustrated, but then he went rigid before his jaw clenched and he glowered at the ground. "Who is this?" There was a pause. "What do you want? You son of a bitch, if you touch either one of them, I'm—" on the other end, they must have hung up because he shoved the phone back into his pocket. "Son of a bitch!" he yelled.

"Do they have Bobby?" She suddenly asked and when he showed no sign of immediate response, she snapped her fingers at him. "Hey, do they have Bobby?"

He looked over at her. "Yeah, they have Bobby and Sam. A demon," he elaborated and she cursed. "What are you doing?" He questioned when she dropped back down onto the ground, grabbing at the pair of boots beside her sleeping bag.

"I'm going with you, dumbass." Tuesday snapped. "You need backup and I need to keep that old man from getting done in by some demon."

"That's not happening."

"Funny thing, I don't ever remembering giving you a choice in the matter."


	3. Push Start to Continue (0x3)

**Bad Company**

_Push Start to Continue_

When it had been established that, whether he wanted her to or not, Tuesday would be on the hunt for the two kidnapped men, he had been forced from the ranch house and to the Impala, stewing in anger as he reread the text message with the location of Sam over and over. Almost half an hour later, the blonde came out of the front door, a bag slung over her shoulder and she made a gesture for him to pop the trunk. The two of them moved around to the back, him opening the trunk and she dumping her bag in, before she looked toward Dean, troubled by something.

"Look," she grumbled and then went quiet for a moment. "You want to save Sam and I have to save Bobby, but we won't be much good being pissy at each other. So, we should, y'know, call some kind of a truce." But she seemed as averse about the prospect of that as he did. When she saw the look he gave her, she made a face. "I'm…sorry for hogtying you two up and being…the way I was."

Dean stared hard at her, how she looked to be in physical pain because she had to apologize to him. "You're serious about this?" He asked and she nodded in reluctance. "Okay. Okay," he repeated and paused. "Same thing I would've done in that situation, I guess." And that seemed to be the best he could manage, but she sent him a sharp look and he scowled. "I shouldn't have snuck in tonight."

"Maybe you shouldn't apologize for that. You probably would've got the call and gone off yourself to the slaughterhouse. Aren't you lucky now? You got a Colt on your side tonight." She bragged, cocky and with a smug smile.

Then he had a sudden epiphany. "You're a hunter, but you don't want to attention that could target…whoever you're trying to protect." He reasoned. "How does that help you out in any way?"

"Because I'm a damn good hunter and I don't leave behind evidence of who I am." Tuesday answered. "As far as the demon world goes, they think the last person who knew the secret is dead. But I put a gun in your hand that I made? They're going to want me and won't stop trying to find me. To find me, they're going to go through my people."

"Sister, you are way too sure of yourself." Dean snorted and watched her lean down over her bag to unzip it. Tuesday looked over her shoulder at him, stare hard, and she glanced back down at the trunk and heaved a reluctant sigh. "What's the problem? We should be in more of a rush here, don't you think?"

It was slow, but she pulled a handgun out of her bag and showed him the weapon, the symbol that had been etched onto the handle, the inscription on the side, and he looked from it to her and then repeated the action. When he went to reach for it, she tugged it back and sent him a sharp look.

"This," she waved the weapon, "is a one-time use. So, I wouldn't get used to her. We go in and we make sure to get each and every demon before they smoke out. Because if they do, I'm a dead woman walking and I don't even want to think about what my people are going to be. I'm letting you use this because I—kind of—trust you enough to not run away with this." She explained and then threw the gun into the bag.

"Do you have one for you?" Dean asked and his gaze never left the weapon until she zipped her bag back up.

Tuesday nodded and then showed him a rather small box of ammunition. "I don't have that many rounds anymore. But, honest, I never had much to start with." She rubbed the back of her neck. "So, my moral here is that you need to be smart when you shoot, understand? We can't afford a screw up."

"And what if we don't have enough?"

"Sugar, if we head into a demon hive where there is more than this," she motioned to the box in hand, "then maybe we deserve to get killed because that would be damn suicide." She dropped it back down into the trunk before she slammed it shut. "So, the demon gave you that address, right?"

Dean nodded and walked back around to the front of the Impala, opening the door and getting behind the wheel. The blonde moved in beside him in the passenger seat and took the cell phone from his hand after he had picked up from the dashboard. She made a waving motion toward him as she searched through the phone, giving him her go ahead to drive, but he looked at her and glared instead.

"What?" Tuesday feigned innocence. "I know the area better than you do, so I know where these sons of bitches are…" She looked down at the screen before she trailed off and then groaned. "Oh, huh, look at that. We're hunting down the same demons I'm in town for. Funny thing, ain't it?"

He started the Impala, taking in what she had said. "Okay. So, have you scoped out the place? How many are we up against?"

"From what I counted," she added up the amount in her head, "about…ten or so. Five of them outside and five rotated coming in and out of the barn," she explained and when he sent her a confused look, she shrugged. "Yeah, the address is a hotel in town. The barn is near that, on the outside of town. They probably planned to ambush you or something. And I'm saying it again—you should be lucky to have me."

Dean scoffed and sped off down the road.

* * *

The Impala was parked a good distance from the barn—enough that no one would see them in the car, but not enough that the two people in the vehicle could see everyone around the barn. And the moon was at the half phase in the nighttime sky, so there wasn't enough light to see how many demons were patrolling the barn. In the passenger seat, Tuesday cursed and looked over at her counterpart, gaze narrowed and scowl stretched across her face.

"What are we supposed to do?" She questioned. "And please don't say run on in there, guns a blazing, because that's pretty damn stupid."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Then what do you suggest, princess?"

"Look here, you dick, you better watch your tone."

"What are you going to do, huh? Sucker punch me again?"

"Sucker punch my ass." Tuesday sneered then huffed and turned to look back at the barn, glowering. "Obviously, we can't shoot at them because that'll send them running out—" she paused then turned to look at him, apparently proud of her sudden idea. "Maybe one of us can shoot and the other can sneak in and get Bobby and Sam out of there." She nodded in agreement to her own suggestion.

The elder Winchester gave her a look of doubt. "Yeah, that's smart. One person taking on a whole boatload of demons and hoping to last long enough for the other person to sneak in and grab Sam and Bobby," he mocked. "Got any more bright ideas?"

"And just what are you coming up with over there, asshole?" There was no response and she made a noise in the back of her throat. "That's what I thought. Now, don't you worry about me and those demons because I've got me a plan in the old noggin, got it?" Before he could respond, she opened the door. "Pop the trunk, amigo."

* * *

Midway between the Impala and the barn, a van pulled up in front of the barn and she ducked behind a tree, crouching down and peeking around to watch two men get out of the vehicle. There was an exchange between them, in front of the high beams, and she watched as other demons hurried out of the barn to greet the men. Tuesday began to approach them, but decided to move around toward the back of the barn instead of making the distraction near the front. At the back, it would give Dean some more time to get in and out. She ducked behind another tree when a demon came into view.

From behind that same tree, Tuesday decided to get even more elaborate in her plan and climb up the branches. She hoped that it would make it harder for the demons to track her down and she had a vantage point, being able to aim and fire at the demons easier. Up in the tree, she reached into her pocket and grabbed her phone, looking around once more before she used the dim light to look at her palm where a number had been written. She punched in the number and waited for the man on the other end to answer her.

"Okay, amigo, where are you?" She whispered.

"Trying to listen to these demons but then you called me." Dean hissed over the line.

"What the hell are you doing trying to hear them for, dumbass? We're here to rescue your brother and Bobby, ain't we?" She shot back in a quiet growl. "I'm about to shoot one of them when he shows back up. Get as close as you can without them seeing you and then you better run your damn ass off, you hear?"

"I hear." She could also hear him scowl. "For this being my search and rescue, you sure as hell are pretty damn bossy." He fussed.

Tuesday responded to that by hanging up on him and returned to her previous hunched position in the tree, watching the corner of the barn where the demon would appear. Another good ten minutes—and about three text messages from Dean demanding to know what took her so long—passed before the demon from before got back around to the back and to where she had him in her line of fire.

Before she shot at the demon, she made sure to stretch and help ease the ache in her body from being in the same awkward spot for so long. She had to make sure that she could move with ease should something go wrong. Then she took aim at the possessed man and let loose a round into his head. The demon jerked and a burst of orange that lit up his skeleton shot through his head before he dropped to the ground. When there was a shout from the front of the structure, she shuffled back into the foliage as much as possible and took aim once more.

As soon as the first demon rounded the corner, she took another shot and hit him square in the chest. Tuesday continued to cock back the hammer of her weapon, taking down each demon that rounded the corner before they could pinpoint her location in the tree. A few had come from the other side, but she managed to catch them, too. After years of experience and learning from some of the best—the older hunter that had been kidnapped being one of, if not the, best of them—she could shoot them with relative ease from her vantage point.

When the screaming had stopped, Tuesday counted up the men she had shot and then came to the conclusion that she was three demons short. There was no sound around her, but she remained up in the tree and tried to hear for any sign of trouble. She itched to jump down, and after another minute or two of no action, she decided to get down and assured herself that she could take on three measly demons alone.

The moment she went to make a move, someone appeared from behind the corner of the barn and she stopped, cocking back the hammer of her weapon. Tuesday went to take aim, but a sudden force pushed her down from the tree and she made a strangled noise before she hit the ground hard. Her body ached and she went to suck in a sharp breath before she was tugged up from the ground and sent back against the barn. Her head hit the wood hard and she looked around in a daze for her gun, but found it had dropped at the base of the tree. The weight of the invisible force kept her pushed up against the wall and she struggled to turn her head toward the man who walked in front of her.

"You would think that you Colt people would take a hint." The man leered and cocked his head to the side as he looked at her. Underneath the faint moonlight, she saw yellow eyes and glared at him even though she was confused because she had never seen a demon that had that color for eyes. "How many of you have to die before you get the point?"

"Who are you?" Tuesday snarled through the supernatural pressure.

"Oh, you don't need to know that." The yellow-eyed demon stared at her then he gave a smug smirk. "So, you're the youngest brat of the bunch, huh? What was your name? Named after a day of the week, I'm sure. What'd my boys say? Tuesday, isn't it?" She stared at him in shock and he chuckled. "C'mon, kiddo, when you got that kind of power, you never really get lost on the radar."

The glare never betrayed her internal panic at the thought of some demon knowing the location of the people she loved most. "That so?" she drawled out. "Then how come you didn't shove me off the radar for good?"

"You've got some big people looking out for you, sweetheart—big, big people. And that kind of attention isn't a good thing for me right now. I have plans and can't have anyone messing them up. Not Dean, not you," he explained and she stared at him, confused. "So, and this is going to happen once, I'm going to give you a warning." Then he stepped as close to her as he could with her pinned on the wall and forced the pressure to crush down on her.

"Man," she wheezed out, "I'm shaking here. Big bad demon got me on the wall."

"You're stubborn—same as daddy, same as your big brothers, but not mommy, though. You know, before I got out of hell, I had some fun with her down in the basement." Tuesday jerked against the wall at the insult and cursed at the demon who laughed. "Everyone's had a turn, from what I've heard."

Tuesday screamed curses at him. "You son of a bitch, you got a huge fucking mouth, but you get me down from here and we'll see how much shit talking you'll do!" She struggled against the hold he had on her despite how out of breath it made her.

"Back to what I was saying," he paused and it looked as though he tried to remember what he'd been talking about before the taunting. "Oh, right, my warning. See, we've been on your behind for a long time now, but you've jumped around so much that we had a hard time finding that one scrap we needed to grab you by the twins—figuratively speaking, of course. So I came up with a plan—get you to come to us."

She looked back over the past month or so, attempted to reach out and locate a time that some demon might have been able to point her out, but she had never been anything short of thorough in covering her tracks after a hunt. There had been no one following her, so she had no idea how the demon would be able to track her down. That panic from before was on the rise again because she had been sure to cover up where she had been, but what about the family that had remained stationary?

"We knew the Colt family was stationed in Texas, but we were never sure where. After all, we picked you off one by one. I know we should've taken the nest out, but, hey, I was busy, so sue me." He shrugged. "All we had to do was set up some hints, nudge you into the right direction, and then track you down and we did. And you know what's even better? You gave me Sammy and Dean in the process. Good on you, sweetheart." the demon complimented.

Tuesday knew she would have to apologize to Dean later—if she ever made it to a later, she added grimly. "Please tell me when we get to the torture or whatever because this whole douchebag monologue is boring the hell out of me."

"Like I said before, I'm not torturing you…yet. Well, maybe I am, but not in that dig a blade down into your ribs kind of pain." He amended. "See, we know where Jamie-boy ran off to and I have some people in the right place who are going to slaughter when I say slaughter. We on the same wavelength here?" she gave a solemn nod. "Stay away from the Winchesters from now on. I even suspect that you're in with them and, well, I can't touch you, but then, I don't need to, do I?"

The blonde was dropped onto the ground and she sucked in a deep breath—whether it was because the pressure had been taken off or because of her panic, she had no idea. When she looked up at the demon, she watched him walk over and pick up her gun and then send an amused look toward her.

"Now, I'm going to take this and a little something else, just so that we're clear you're not to be involved with them anymore. A bit more insurance on my part," he explained before he winked at her. "For your sake, you better hope we never see each other again, Tuesday." The yellow-eyed demon warned before he disappeared with the gun that she had sworn long ago to keep from monsters such as him.

Tuesday stumbled to her feet and sprinted toward the front of the barn and past the entrance to get to the van that had a door open. She slammed the door shut and tore open the panel, tugging out wires as fast as she could to get the car started. When the engine revved to life, she looked up in time to see the three men come out of the barn and look at her as she sped off into the opposite direction.

* * *

A scream of anger and then a loud thud echoed throughout the ranch house as the three men entered through the front door, looking around at the chaos of the abandoned home. Each man held up a gun and searched room by room before they met back up by the door and nodded to acknowledge that no demon was in the house. Weapons were lowered, and when there was another crash, the three of them walked into the room where Tuesday had been camped out. They looked around at the mess, where someone had torn the room apart, and then looked back at her.

In the middle of the room, she ran a hand through her blonde hair and had a phone up to her ear. The woman moved back and forth over the room, looked panicked, and when the person on the other end of the phone picked up, she let out a loud breath of relief before her panic was back.

"Where are you?" There was an answer and she started to shake her head. "Damn it, James, I don't care that you're mad at me—" the person argued back and she screamed into the phone. "Fucking listen to me right now, okay? I don't give a flying fuck what you're doing right now. You need to pack up and leave. Go take Abby and Noah and get the fuck out of Dodge—"

Angry yelling exploded over the other end and it was so loud that even they could hear it on the other side of the room. Both Sam and Dean looked at Bobby for an explanation, but his gaze was centered on Tuesday and he frowned in concern.

"Fuck you, James. I covered my tracks everywhere I went." She stopped. "Some of us ain't like you, okay? I can't up and quit the life and you shouldn't have either! Maybe then you would know that some demons are keeping tabs on you." Then she blinked angrily. "Well, no, but—son of a bitch, I'm trying to keep y'all safe! Be as pissy as you want, but you need to get out of there." She groaned in aggravation. "We both know I'm the better hunter between us and this son of a bitch got past me—he got the damn journal, James."

"What the hell is going on?" Dean hissed at Bobby, but the blonde sent him a sharp look and he stopped speaking with a glare.

Tuesday rolled her eyes, her panic seeming to come down somewhat. "You know what I forgot? It was that you're the next damn Einstein—you know so damn much. A demon won't give a damn about you being out or that you got a baby boy. I want to protect you three and you're not making it easy." Whoever James was, he told her something that made her suck in a sharp breath before she glared at the floor. "Low blow, partner—real low."

Slowly, she snapped her phone shut and touched it to her forehead, keeping her spot as she sucked in a deep breath to calm herself. Dean went to speak, but she stared at him hard before she pointed at him accusingly. "Don't even get started because I'm not in the mood and I can kick your ass."

"I—" Dean stopped and Sam nudged him in the ribcage. "I wasn't going to. I wanted to, uh, apologize because…a demon got away…and he had that gun you gave me."

"Yeah, that yellow-eyed bastard got mine, too." She scowled and kicked at a bottle on the ground before dropping down onto a turned-over bucket, head hung and hands wrapped up in her hair. "It was a damn trap for me."

Both Sam and Dean shared a look before they glanced back at her. "Yellow-eyes?" the younger asked. "He…set a trap for you? Why would he do that?"

"I feel like the whole I can create a gun that can drop anything and anyone out there thing ain't getting through to y'all." Tuesday sarcastically answered. "Your boy warned me to keep back from you boys and he took the recipe, too. He took me out there to get me away long enough to tear this place down and find it."

Dean groaned. "Great. That's…freaking perfect."

"For once, I couldn't agree with you more." She looked up at them and glared. "We need to get it back before that bastard does something with it."

"Okay, well, whip up another gun and we can go gank that mother."

Then she glanced to the side and made a face. "I can't. I don't know how."

"Hold on." Sam started after a moment of tense silence passed through the room. "I'm not—maybe I don't understand—" he stopped and then looked at her dumbstruck. "Are you saying that you've been protecting this huge secret and you don't even know how to make the thing you're keeping safe?"

"It was insurance, okay?" Tuesday defended and glared at him. "None of us knew the whole process by heart. Not even my own father remembered it. We knew where it was at and we made our weapons, but we were never supposed to keep it in our head. That way, if some demon got a hold of us and tortured us for information, they wouldn't get a scrap."

Sam looked at her and then pitied her. "So, your own dad would let you get tortured to keep some secret safe?"

"I would be more than happy to die to keep that secret safe." She continued to defend and Sam was struck with the realization that she was too much like Dean. "This is a gun that can kill any damn creepy-crawler out there. Of course he would let me die and I never blamed him for that."

The brunette noticed how Bobby sent a sharp look toward Dean, but the elder brother stared at the woman across the room and had a pained expression on his face. More silence ensued after and then the oldest hunter in the room cleared his throat to catch their attention. The three people looked up at him and he sighed.

"Well, you two are tracking down that demon and Tuesday needs that demon found."

"I'm not paying them to find some damn demon I can find myself."

"And then what? You get killed because you thought you could take on that demon yourself?" Bobby snapped at her and she winced. "And who said anything about paying them because I sure as hell didn't." She looked at him, confused. "You're going to go with them to find that gun and then find that demon."

Tuesday jumped to her feet and Dean automatically went to protest, but Bobby cut the two of them off by beginning to speak again. "You need as much backup as you can get," he said toward Dean. "And you need help to get it back." He told Tuesday. "So, you two need to buck up and work together. Soon as we get this demon for good, you two can get away from each other."

Even Sam seemed opposed to the idea of having another person on the road with them but thought about it more. Tuesday was a hunter—a damn good one, from what Bobby had told them—and having another person on the road with them could provide backup and more insight into cases because she seemed more experienced than even Dean. And should they track down the secret journal, she would be able to make them another weapon that could get rid of the yellow-eyed demon.

"I'm game." Sam spoke up and caught the attention of the room. "I think it would be a good idea. But…can you make us another gun? If we help you hunt this down?"

Tuesday might have had the same thought process he had a moment ago because, even though she seemed reluctant, she also appeared to accept the prospect of hunting down the demon with them.

"The bastard threatened my people, he took that secret," she sighed. "Uh, yeah, sure, I can do that for you, Sam. Sure as hell love to see that fucker get done in." And then she gave another, more frustrated, sigh. "Well, where the hell do we start, boys?"


End file.
